Six weeks later and the devastation remains quite evident in Spruce Pine. The roads are mostly open-at least one lane of the main roads-but businesses remain closed, it appears there is still no sewer (as evidenced by the hundreds of porta-potties everywhere), and it’s going to take a lot of effort and equipment and skill, and a long time to rebuild and recover. I am only here for the day. I get to drive away from here, back to my normal life, to my friends, to my path of infinite joy. I brace for the survivor’s guilt to crash over me as I pull out of town.
And there it is: gratitude. In the form of a hand painted sign on the road out of town that reads, “Thank You for Helping Us.” Helene brought us a whole lot of destruction, disruption, loss, and suffering. But Helene also brought us together. It’s enormous: the disaster zone, but also the relief effort. Thousands of people across the region on any given day offering their time and treasure, working alongside complete strangers in the service of complete strangers.
And someone, in the midst of that suffering, with enumerable losses of their own, took the time to thank those of us who get to drive away unscathed. The light and the dark at play together in a dance that spins out before us and behind us for eternity. The grief and the gratitude. The pain and the joy. Interdependent, like us.
And there it is: gratitude. In the form of a hand painted sign on the road out of town that reads, “Thank You for Helping Us.” Helene brought us a whole lot of destruction, disruption, loss, and suffering. But Helene also brought us together. It’s enormous: the disaster zone, but also the relief effort. Thousands of people across the region on any given day offering their time and treasure, working alongside complete strangers in the service of complete strangers.
And someone, in the midst of that suffering, with enumerable losses of their own, took the time to thank those of us who get to drive away unscathed. The light and the dark at play together in a dance that spins out before us and behind us for eternity. The grief and the gratitude. The pain and the joy. Interdependent, like us.
